


Surgeon

by lesbianettes



Category: Chicago Med
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Canon-typical medical procedures, M/M, Oneshot, Open Ending, infection crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:41:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21565483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianettes/pseuds/lesbianettes
Summary: Connor stays in Chicago long enough for the Infection crossover.
Relationships: Connor Rhodes/Crockett Marcel
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Surgeon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snickerdoodles27](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickerdoodles27/gifts).



> This is a secret santa gift for the exchange! It's for @dumpster-writer on tumblr (Snickerdoodles27 on AO3).

It’s all hands on deck. Pretty much every single doctor and nurse who works the ED is here, along with most of the surgeons in the hospital, which means that Connor finally meets the trauma surgeon who works the night shift. Crockett Marcel. Crockett Marcel is flamboyant, charming, loud, and impulsive right off the bat, and rumor has it that he’s a bit of a drinker. All in all, he’s somewhat of a concern when he runs around the ED.

At the very least, though, he seems good with the patients. They trust him, are reassured by him, and when they’re terrified, they at least give Crockett permission to push a little something to calm them down. It’s more than Connor’s been able to manage, given how freaked out he is about this, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it. He has to have some faith in him, he decides moments before the two of them are rushed into the same surgery. The patient’s right forearm, right thigh, are both infected, and it’s faster to do both issues at once before the infection can keep spreading.

It’s the both of them, standing here surrounded by a mixture of their teams, Connor delicately cutting through the dead flesh on the arm as Crockett works on the leg. He doesn’t think he will ever be able to forget reek of rot, the way there’s no blood, just more grey and brown and pus. Maybe once or twice in his career, he’s dealt with staph infections kind of like this, but never so horrific, so rapidly expanding, so contagious.

“I’m not getting blood flow,” he says. He’s pretty deep, and everything is dead. There’s nothing there anymore. “Any luck, Marcel?”

“Not much.”

Connor really doesn’t want to consider the possibility that they won’t be able to cut the infection out. Losing an arm, or a leg, or God forbid both would be devastating, and that’s with the assumption that an infection doesn’t pop up anywhere else. This whole day has been failures with a smattering of hope. Everyone is dying. They can’t save people fast enough.

“C’mon,” Crockett growls. He’s gotten almost frantic in his actions. “There’s gotta be something left down here.”

April stops his hand. “You’re down to the bone. There’s nothing you can do.”

“Please tell me you can save her arm.”

Connor meets Crockett’s eyes across the patient’s body. He wants to say he can. But he’s gone deeper, and there’s still nothing. One of the team places two fingers on the patient’s wrist and shakes their head. No pulse. No blood. An arm and a leg, gone.

“What kind of life will she have?”

“That’s not our focus right now. It’s about making sure that life is still possible.” He hates this. He hates not having time to think about that because this patient is on the cusp of death, and they have countless others who likely need surgery. New cases keep coming in. “Hand me the bone saw.”

Someone puts it together, and then places the saw in Connor’s hand. It’s a good thing he has a strong stomach. Crockett orders a push of extra meds to help with the shock, and April ties a tourniquet to keep the patient from bleeding out before they can cauterize the wound. This may be one of the worst things he’s ever had to do. He could scream. 

Before he can start, the monitor suddenly starts screaming. They’re losing her. It’s a blur, struggling to get her heart to work, to do anything, but they just can’t. She doesn’t come back, no matter how hard they try. This patient, this human being, has become a corpse on his table because they couldn’t act fast enough. Connor can’t help lifting the gown, and finds a deep purple almost-bruise on her stomach. Another infection. There was nothing they could have done, because it hadn’t shown up on her scan-- although that was about an hour and a half ago.

“Fuck!”

Connor slams his hands down on the edge of the table. His head hurts, the way it does when he’s stressed out, dehydrated, or some combination thereof. All he can think about is the fact that he failed. He couldn’t save her, even though he knew what would happen if they missed anything at all. 

“Rhodes-”

Crockett reaches for him, but all Connor sees is the blood on his latex gloves. He stumbles back, reaching for something to steady himself. He can’t feel his feet. His hand closes on a tray, but it doesn’t support him; rather, its wheels make it move, and he falls back, narrowly avoiding hitting his head hard on the linoleum.

“Hey, hey, take a deep breath, Rhodes.”

Gloves dropped on the floor, face mask gone. Crockett’s above him, now cupping the back of his head and trying to calm him down. He can’t breathe, he realizes, but that’s nowhere near as distressing as the surgery.

“Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it, sugar. How can we help?”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything because it feels like somebody took a crowbar to his shins. He inhales through his teeth and sits up to clutch his leg, an instinct against the sharp and sudden pain. Before Connor says a word, Crockett pushes up the leg of his scrubs and there’s a small not-quite bruise.

“Okay. Okay, we’re gonna take care of this,” Crockett says, and orders the team to get a gurney. “We’re gonna give you an MRI, just to rule out an infection. Right now, you’re panicking. You’re upset. We’re gonna fix you up good, Rhodes, don’t worry.”

Crockett and April help him up onto a gurney, and Crockett orders her to give Connor something for his anxiety. He wants to say thank you. Before he gets the chance, though, his body relaxes for him, and he’s filled with a warm not-quite high. Definitely a larger dose than he would have chosen for himself. Crockett’s liberal with his treatments, and this appears to be no exception. 

“I need an MRI immediately.”

Someone mentions a line, but Connor doesn’t think there’s more than a few minutes between the anti-anxiety medication being administered and the order for him to stay still so the machine can do its job and take a full body picture. His sense of time is probably skewed, though, because he doesn’t feel like he’s in the MRI for very long before they pull him out and he finds himself surrounded by the ED staff. Will beside his bed, stroking his hair. April and Monique walking alongside the gurney. Even Mrs. Goodwin is there, and she’s talking to him but he isn’t processing anything, still caught on the smell of the infection and the way that girl died under his hands. 

But once he’s in a room, an IV being pushed into his veins, it’s just Crockett. Putting in lines is usually a nurse’s job, but now it’s just the two of them. Crockett offers him a tight smile. “You’re gonna be okay, Rhodes. We did find a little spot, but I’m going to get rid of that for you, and you’ll be right as rain.”

Once the IV is in, Connor takes Crockett’s hand and squeezes. “I have it?” he asks. His words sound a little slow to his own ears. “I’m sick.”

“Just for now,” Crockett assures immediately. “We’re gonna fix it for you, I promise. In just a minute, you’ll get prepped for surgery. Okay?”

He leans down and presses a kiss to Connor’s forehead, something familiar and touching despite the fact that they barely know each other. It’s reassuring nonetheless, and Connor nods despite how far away from life he currently feels. There’s just something reassuring about Crockett. When he’s brought to an OR, a mask prepared to put him under, he just watches the team come in one by one, scrubbed in and ready.

He falls asleep softly.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @princessbekker


End file.
